


I Won't Let Anyone Take Him From Me.

by pastelkanan



Series: Yandere Simulator AU [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Asshole Grisha Yeager, Implied Sexual Content, Kenny Ackerman Being an Asshole, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Multi, The occult club tries to summon a demon, most of this is my own stuff and not based off the game, removed from Yandere Simulator fandom tag, seriously Grisha is such an ass, still not tagging background relationships LMAO, this ended up more serious than i meant for it to be, why is everyone such an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6898996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelkanan/pseuds/pastelkanan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean finally got his way. It took a bit longer than he expected, sure, but he's finally gotten what he wanted.<br/>Now he just has to work through everything that comes after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What's Best

Jean stared down at his phone and sighed. Did he really want to pull on this thread? It was killing him that, a week after everything had happened, Jean still didn't know who was on the other end of the phone. That man had technically helped him to commit murder. That man had set him down a path that he was going to have to keep hidden for the rest of his life. That man was a fucking menace and Jean was going out of his fucking  _ mind  _ trying to figure out who it was. 

He summoned up his strength and tapped the  _ call _ button. He has graciously been given the week off of school for recovery purposes, but now it was Friday evening and if he didn't devote the rest of his weekend to this specific thing, it was unlikely he’d ever find the time or motivation needed for this ever again. He couldn't live with that.

It wasn't pressing the call button that he regretted. No, his regret was that he left the line open long enough for  _ that man _ to answer. “Jean,” he said. “What a lovely surprise. How can I help you.”

Jean forced himself to loosen his grip on the phone. His mother would be home that week and the last thing he needed was to tell her that he broke his phone trying to talk to someone he hated. “Cut the shit,” he snapped. “I'm fucking tired of this. Who are you?”

“I fail to see how it is of importance. You've gotten what you wanted, yes?”

“Yes, that's true, but you should have known that I’d seriously what to know who you are sooner or later.”

The Informant let out a sigh. “Oh, Jean. I don't think you need to know.”

Jean made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. It made his throat hurt in a way he hadn't felt before. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, either. “I do need to know,” he insisted, pulling himself back to reality. “I turned into a killer because of you. I think I deserve to know who the fuck I'm talking to.”

“Breaking that leg really made you more irritable than usual, you know.”

“Stop avoiding the question. Answer me.”

There was a long pause. “I believe that you and I are set to cross paths soon. You'll know me when we meet.” Then there was a small click and Jean was left alone with the droning tone that signaled the end of the call. It made him want to kill someone. Preferably the person who hung up on him. 

But if what the Informant said was true, which it usually  _ was,  _ he might get that chance sooner than expected. And he was completely okay with that. If the chance presented itself, there was no way in hell that Jean was going to let it slip by. He'd take that chance. He'd wipe that scum off the face of the earth. It was the least that the Informant deserved. 

Just what  _ soon _ meant was a bit up in the air, though. Jean had more important things to attend to. Since his mom said she was supposed to be home on Wednesday, Eren practically insisted that Jean go over to his house for the weekend since the law was about to be laid back down. Jean couldn't refuse. It had been uncomfortable going anywhere that last weekend when he had just gotten out of the hospital, but the old saying that time healed all wounds wasn't entirely wrong. It wasn't completely correct, no, but it wasn't wrong. A week had worked wonders. 

That was why he went to bed early that night and got up early Saturday morning. Eren was one of those fucking treehuggers that always chose walking instead of driving even though he had a perfectly valid license. Come to find out, snapping your leg in half pretty much ensured that even the most environmentally conscious of people would use their cars to take you places. He had to be all ready before Eren got there. He always had to be ready before Eren showed up, of course, but at least this time he didn't have to worry about the state of the house. Just had to worry about how he looked and if he packed everything he needed. It was a nice change. 

Eren showed up at Jean’s house around eleven. God. He looked so  _ cute  _ standing there with that smile on his face. That smile was the reason for everything. The reason Jean had learned what it meant to be human, what it meant to  _ feel.  _ The reason he had gone a bit out of his mind. The reason his insanity could be justified. The reason that, despite the things he did and the people he hurt, he could keep on living. Because he had protected that smile from the harm that otherwise would have been forced upon the angel that stood in front of him. 

“Hope you're ready to officially meet the parents,” Eren said after he had taken Jean’s bag and walked him to the car. Despite the fact that Jean insisted he was fine to take his own stuff, Eren was determined to make things as easy as he could for him. 

Jean got into the passenger seat before Eren could try to help him in. “I've met your parents before.”

“You met them  _ once _ for, like, five minutes,” Eren replied when he had taken his place in the driver’s seat. “That doesn't really count. This is for real.”

“I'm assuming you told them about us.”

“You kidding? That's half the reason you have to come over. They're losing their shit not having gotten to know the kid their son confessed his love to.”

“What's the other half?”

“The  _ fucking _ celery.”

Jean laughed. “There is absolutely no way in hell that you're going to convince me you genuinely have that much celery, Eren.”

“ _ I’m _ not going to have to convince you after you've seen it.” Eren shook his head and sighed. “Mom has been on some weird health kick for awhile now. Apparently there's some diet that's mostly comprised of fucking celery. It's driving me insane.”

“You better not disappoint. I want an entire crisper in the fridge full of nothing but celery.”

“Oh, trust me. That's exactly what you're gonna get.”

Before they could take a look at the contents of the refrigerator, though, there was the issue of Jean properly meeting Eren’s mom. One Carla Jeäger was sitting in the living room with a book in her lap when they got in. She immediately closed the book and set it to the side; Jean doubted she had actually been reading it judging by how quickly she got rid of it. 

“Jean!” she said in such a cheerful voice that Jean wondered how many cups of coffee she had inhaled that day. “It's to nice to finally be able to speak with you. I've heard a lot about you.”

Jean did his best to smile even though all he wanted to do was retreat with Eren to his bedroom and fuck around all weekend. “Good things, I hope,” he said as he slipped his shoes off. “I would hate to make a bad impression before we’ve been able to get to know each other.”

Carla gave Eren a rather impressed look before turning her attention back to Jean. “Mostly good things, yes, but he seems to have left out the part where you're so eloquent and polite.”

Eren, however, looked mildly offended. “Because he usually isn't. I think I brought home the wrong guy.”

Jean shrugged. “Gotta make a good impression, right?”

“Well,” Carla said after she cleared her throat. “I won’t keep you held up in here with me. It’ll be a while before Grisha gets home and you can meet him, so I’ll hold off on the questioning until he gets here. Better to deal with two parents at once than each one individually, I’d think.”

Clearly it had been a long time since that woman had to go through the discomfort of meeting her boyfriend’s parents. One at a time would have been  _ much _ more preferable, especially considering that they had seemed like rather stern people that one time he had met them. Of course, he had met them that time because Eren had gotten into a fistfight and Jean had to go with him to the nurse’s office and then deliver him to the principal’s office where both of his parents were already waiting. They hadn’t been very happy that day.

Hopefully they’d be more relaxed around a dinner table where nobody had beaten the shit out of someone else. A peaceful meeting was bound to give better results. He didn’t give a flying fuck about Eren’s parents, not really, but he got the feeling that if the parents didn’t like him…

It was better to not finish that thought. He didn’t want to add Eren’s parents to his list of victims. Not when they were such an important part of his life. Not after he’d already lost his sister. Jean feared that Eren’s sanity would take a sharp turn downwards if he lost any more members of his family. So he had to get along with them. He absolutely had to.

Before that, though, came an afternoon spent in Eren’s bedroom. His heart couldn’t take it. His stomach was a knot deep within him, a collection of nervousness that he couldn’t tame. Had Eren felt that way the first time he visited Jean? God, he hoped not. He never wanted Eren to be nervous around him. But, really, how nervous could Eren have been? Jean’s place was nothing special. They were always alone at Jean’s house. There was absolutely no reason to be worried about anything. 

“Were you nervous the first time you came over to my house?” Jean asked as Eren laid his hand on the doorknob. 

Eren paused. “A bit,” he admitted. “I mean, we had never really hung out away from school before then, right? I didn’t know what to expect.” He looked back over at Jean and grinned. “Are  _ you _ nervous?”

“Maybe a little bit.” He looked down at the floor. “I mean, I’ve never been invited to anyone’s house before. People don’t like me that much.”

Eren suddenly flung his bedroom door open. “Now you have been. I like you.” His grin changed into a genuine smile. “Get in there.”

Jean did as he was told. He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected from Eren’s room, not really. He did know, however, that he didn’t expect for there to be any sort of order in the room. He had seen Eren’s locker and Eren’s backback and if there was something that Eren wasn’t, it was organized. His organizational strategy seemed to be “throw everything into a corner, say I’ll deal with it later, and then never deal with it.” At school, at least.

But his room was clean. There was no mess on his floor. The new posters and such on the walls were all perfectly straightened, the shelves he kept his things on were all neatly arranged, and hell, even the bed was made. It felt so calm, so safe. It felt like a home.

Eren stepped in behind Jean and shut the door. “We can set up whatever you want for the night. I dunno if you wanted to make another fort or whatever, but we can do it.”

“The fort was fun,” Jean said. “Besides, it’s more private. I’d feel really awkward if one of your parents walked in if we were doing something.”

“What kind of something?” Eren asked, one eyebrow raised in almost menacing way. “What is it that you're suggesting?”

“Shut up. You know what I meant. It'd be weird if your mom came in and we were kissing or something. I dunno.”

Eren gave a devilish grin before they stripped the blankets and sheets off of his bed to make a fort. They didn’t stop building until the whole room was covered, save for a little opening flap near the door. The otherwise uncomfortable floor was covered in pillows and blankets all bunched up in little corners comfortable for sleeping. Eren did most of the work, making Jean sit in the floor for reference of how high the ceiling of the fort needed to be. That and he didn't want Jean to get caught up in the sheets somewhere and fall trying to get unstuck. It was almost cute the way Eren was fussing over him. Or, more accurately, the way he  _ had _ been fussing over him ever since he got out of the hospital. 

Once it was all put together and they were comfortable inside their little fort, Jean did something Eren hadn’t quite expected. The guy had been horribly attached to his phone for a long time. He always looked at it when they were at lunch, he always had it close while he slept, and goddamn, he was pretty sure he had seen Jean take it with him to the bathroom more than once. But not this time. Jean turned his phone off and let Eren take it, told Eren to put it somewhere that he wouldn’t be able to find. He didn’t want it. As long as he was with Eren, nothing else mattered. Not one damn thing.

He wasn’t going to let the  _ Informant _ interrupt a pleasant weekend again, not that Eren knew anything about that. All that Eren knew was that Jean loved him and wanted to spend time with him and nothing else was important at that moment. That was why Eren took Jean’s phone and just stuffed it under his mattress, a place where Jean could easily get to it and yet wouldn’t. And when the phone was under the mattress and everything else was in place, they settled in to lay together until dinner came around. There was no better way so spend an afternoon. Nothing more comfortable. Nothing either of them would rather be doing.

Because nothing, absolutely nothing, was nicer than being together. Jean had succeeded in his mission. Eren was his, he was Eren’s. And Eren had never felt safer, not even when Mikasa was always there to avenge him or whatever it is that she wanted to do to keep him safe. There was no one that could keep Eren safer than Jean could. No one that could make him feel more secure with his place in the world. No matter what happened, no matter who tried to fuck them up, they would be okay. They would work through it  _ together.  _ They'd face the world one day at a time. They were going to make it. 

Laying there in Jean’s arms, Eren was sure that he had never been more comfortable in all his life. And he would never be that comfortable with anyone else. Jean was the only one. 

That comfort went on for hours. Well, Eren assumed that he was comfortable for hours. He wasn’t quite sure considering that he fell asleep as some point, all warm and curled up next to Jean. Those were the best possible conditions for sleep; Eren had been dealing with trouble sleeping ever since Mikasa first didn't come home. The only time he could rest and truly be at ease was with Jean. That was when his mind was calm and his dreams were peaceful. 

Then there was a knock at the door and Jean whispered to wake up, effectively pulling Eren out of his sleep in two seconds flat. He jerked up with a startled, “Wh?”

Jean smiled in the most beautiful way. “Dinner. I guess that means your dad is home, too.”

“Jesus fuck. How long was I asleep?”’

“Dunno. I passed out for a little while, too. Can’t keep track of time when you’re asleep.”

Staying wrapped up in a blanket and laying together was a nice way to spend time, of course, but boys had to eat. They forced themselves to rub their eyes and crawl out of their little hiding place, forced themselves to go down the hall and into the dining room. Eren forced himself, anyways. Jean had been awake for a little bit longer and wasn't still in such a sleek hangover. 

The dining table was host to everything needed for a good family dinner. Four placemats were set, two empty and two occupied. At one was Carla. At the other was the man Jean had seen at school when Eren’s parents had arrived to take him home; Grisha sat with his hands neatly folded in his lap. Now that Jean could get a good look at both of Eren’s parents, he couldn’t help but notice how much Eren looked like his mother.

Jean didn’t know what the seating arrangement in the Jeäger household usually was, but the two empty seats were thankfully next to each other. He wouldn't have been able to deal with sitting next to some gross adult he didn't really know. Carla smiled kindly, motioned for them to sit at the empty seats, and said that she hoped Jean liked the meal she had made for everyone. Sure, the boys could have just ordered a pizza, but she insisted that ordering food was no way to welcome someone to your home for the first time. Jean did his best to express gratitude for her hospitality. It would have been awfully rude to not thank her for making a meal, regardless of if he asked for one or not. She was truly a nice woman.

Then Eren’s father opened his mouth to speak. “Jean,” he said, “a pleasure to finally meet you.”

And it took all of Jean’s strength to keep himself from screaming.

He knew that voice.

He knew that voice and the world tilted underneath him and he was so grateful for the chair he was sitting on because without that chair he would have fallen straight to the floor. He struggled to keep his composure and reply with a respectful, “Nice to meet you, sir.” Eren didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong. 

Good. Jean had already decided that the evening was absolutely  _ not _ going to be ruined. He couldn't make Eren worried. Not then. Not ever. 

That was easily the most awkward dinner Jean had ever been to. He had expected to be pelted with questions and so that part was no surprise, but the man at the table certainly was. Jean had felt shock once or twice, sure. He was fairly sure by then that he had felt all there was to feel. This was a different kind of shock. This wasn't a shock like finding out that Eren loved him. This was more like having a perfectly wonderful day and then hearing on the news that the world was going to end within the next hour. It was the kind of shock that made a person wish they hadn't gotten out of bed in the morning and was still peacefully sleeping. The kind that drove people out of their minds.

Jean bit his tongue through most of dinner, speaking only when spoken to. But he remained respectful and honest. He owed the parents that much for raising someone like Eren. He helped Eren and his parents clean up after dinner like a responsible kid. He made sure to seem like the kind of person who was worth his share. And he nearly lost his fucking  _ shit _ when Eren opened the refrigerator and showed him that they really did, in fact, have that much fucking celery in their house. An entire crisper full of celery. An  _ entire _ fucking crisper. Unbelievable.

All that time, Jean had been convinced that there was no possible way for anyone to have as much celery in their house as Eren made it sound like. And he was wrong. He was very, very wrong. Suddenly Jean understood why Eren kept talking about it and wondering when his mom was going to get off that weird health kick. It was… bizarre. Certainly bizarre.

They went right back to Eren’s room after that, right back to some semblance of calmness. To a place where Jean wasn’t about to pass out under the weight of dealing with Eren’s parents and Eren could go back to sleep for a little while before they inevitably stayed up all night playing video games or something. That was probably how it was going to go. What was even the  _ point _ of having someone over if you didn't have the intention of staying up all night?

 

-

 

Unfortunately, the video games were off limits. Carla came in around eleven to tell them that they could stay up watching movies or whatever, but they made too much noise playing games. Jean didn't bother to mention that most of that noise was Eren. Nobody liked dying in video games, sure, but it was personal to Eren. Somehow. It would have been cute if it didn't make Jean feel like his eardrums were about to burst. 

It was midnight when Jean excused himself from their first movie to go to the bathroom, the one thing Eren couldn’t do for him. His only excuse to leave the room by himself. Grisha sat in the living room, not far from where Carla had been when Jean first arrived. Instead of a book, though, he held a regular old newspaper. “Good evening,” he said when Jean walked in.

A chill swept over Jean. “Good evening,” Jean replied. “Informant.”

Grisha folded his newspaper and laid it to the side. “Do try to remain quiet. My wife has already gone to bed and Eren thinks you’re elsewhere, doesn’t he?”

“How?” Jean asked. “How do you know all of the things you know? Things about kids still in high school?”

“I have a special role in the school. Of course I know these things.”

Jean gritted his teeth. “Then, why? Why did you get involved?” He took a deep breath. “Your daughter is gone because of you. People are dead because of you. Tell me why, old man. Tell me why you set all of this into motion. For fuck’s sake, tell me why you let people die.”

Grisha--no, the Informant--shrugged. “I just want what’s best for my son.”


	2. That's the Spirit!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The occult club is far from being Jean's favorite and yet, there he is, getting mixed in with their bullshit. Damn it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I wrote two of these bullshit things in one day lmao have fun I guess

Jean sighed and walked into the occult club room. He wasn't quite sure how he and Eren had gotten dragged into this, but there they were with Sasha and Connie to “try to summon a demon.” Sasha had a theory that they hadn't been able to summon one yet because they didn't have enough people. There were only three members of the occult club, including her and Connie. The other was a quiet girl that Jean couldn't be bothered to learn the name of. The three members were enough to keep the club open, but Sasha  _ insisted _ that they could summon a demon if they just had a couple more people in on it.

He was immediately ushered to a corner of a pentagram he was pretty sure had been spray painted onto the rug. Whatever worked, he supposed. Although, he couldn’t imagine that anyone was particularly thrilled that the occult club kids spray painted a pentagram onto a rug and hauled it into the school for their silly little activities.

“You’re gonna sit right here,” she told him. “Eren’ll sit across from you when he gets here. Okay?”

Jean shrugged. “I don’t think demons care much about seating arrangements.”

Sasha grinned wildly. “That’s the spirit!”

Connie groaned from where he sat at another point of the pentagram. “Sashaaaaa. You gotta stop making spirit jokes. You’re gonna piss off the ghosts.”

She stuck her tongue out. “I bet the ghosts appreciate my jokes. You don’t know what they think.”

For fuck’s sake. Eren couldn’t get there fast enough. He wanted to get this over with and finally leave school. The occult club was nothing but a couple idiots fucking around under the excuse of “supernatural research.” What kind of   _ supernatural _ forces were there to be found in a lame high school? There was nothing in their school but a bunch of kids who were tired of homework and everyone else around them. There was no way in hell that the occult club kids could actually summon a demon.

Eren made his entrance a couple minutes later. During the time it took for him to get there, Sasha was busy lighting candles, putting a bowl close to the center of the circle but just a tiny bit off, and making sure that Jean, Connie, and that unnamed quiet girl were all in just the right places. She ordered Eren to the spot across from Jean and he took the seat he was told to. He settled in and smiled. “So. What kind of hellspawn are we gonna summon today?”

Jean rolled his eyes and decided to ignore that Eren actually seemed into this whole thing. It was such bullshit and  _ anyone _ could see that except for the occult club and, apparently, Eren Jeäger. Lovely. He was the only sane person in the room and yet he was the craziest of all of them. The world was truly an incredible place. 

Actually, he was suddenly convinced that he  _ wasn’t _ the craziest of them all when Sasha pulled a knife out of a decorational skull on some table. He hoped it was decorational. Judging by the look on Sasha’s face, though, she took it seriously. She placed the knife in the middle of the pentagram and took her seat. The quiet girl looked at Sasha like she was some kind of all-knowing being. Oh, Jean thought, how wrong she was. Poor girl who had actually been tricked into thinking Sasha knew anything about how the world worked away from that farm she grew up on.

She suddenly clapped her hands together and nodded. “Alright! Let’s get to it. This time we’re gonna get that demon. It  can no longer escape us!”

Connie let out a  _ whoop _ and Jean wondered if he’d get in trouble for grabbing that knife and slitting someone’s throat. He probably would. Damn. 

“So,” she started, “I’m gonna need each of you to take our ritual knife and--”

“If you’re going to tell me that you need my blood for some ritual, I’m getting up and leaving,” Jean interrupted. “I am not here to sacrifice myself to Satan.”

She gave him a  _ look.  _ The kind of look only women could dish out. The kind his mother used to give him. Ugh. “Shut up, Jean. This isn’t a blood ritual. I  _ was _ going to ask for a tiny bit of hair, though.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He tilted his head back and groaned. The fuck? Hair? Really? She wanted a piece of his hair to try to summon a demon that almost certainly did not exist? Christ. She was actually insane. He wasn’t the craziest one in the room. What a relief. When he looked back down, the first thing he saw was Eren slicing off a bit from the underside of his hair. A piece of his soul died when Eren asked what to do with the hair he cut off.

Sasha pointed to the bowl she had put in the middle of the pentagram. “Right there, please. Jean, you go next.”

The excited look on Eren’s face made it impossible for him to back out this far in. Fuck. So, like a good, supportive boyfriend, he followed suit and sliced off some of his own hair to put in the bowl. He was  _ so _ not getting paid enough for this. He wasn’t getting paid at all, actually. He didn’t have a job just yet. Goddamn it. The world sucked ass.

Sasha went next, then the unknown girl. When the knife was handed to him, Connie just kind of… glared. He didn’t fucking have any hair. Sasha just kind of shrugged and said that she’d take nail clippings, too. Demons couldn’t possibly be that picky, right? They were demons. Demons probably didn’t give a fuck. So Connie used the knife to cut off a bit of his thumbnail and threw it into the bowl. 

As long as Sasha didn’t light the contents of the bowl on fire, everything would probably be fine. She couldn’t possibly get away with lighting a fire in the school, right? No way. No possible way she could do that without getting in serious trouble. She didn’t pull out any matches, though, so that was a good sign. What she did do was place the knife atop the bowl, ask everyone to fucking  _ join hands,  _ and let her lead the “ritual chant.” Jesus fucking Christ. What was going on?

The words that came out of her mouth all seemed to be a bunch of nonsense as far as Jean was concerned. There was no way in hell that any of that actually meant anything. No fucking way. It was all bullshit. He didn’t want anyone touching his hands but Eren. Fuck. Fuck that entire damn day. It was stupid. It was ridiculous. He wanted to go  _ home.  _ With Eren. No one but Eren. 

The longer Sasha talked, the more and more convinced Jean was that she was making it up as she went along. Things didn’t work like that. It was the worst. He hated every single second of it. Sasha just kept droning on and on and  _ on _ and there was no sign of her shutting the fuck up. And Eren was into it. Eren was  _ super _ into it. That was the only reason he tried to seem like he was even remotely interested in it. If Eren cared about it, Jean at was at least willing to pretend that he gave half of a shit. Half of a shit. No more than that.

Sasha finally came to the end of her so-called “incantation” and everyone sat in silence for a moment. The faint sounds of breathing filled the air. Everything was still. No portals to hell opened. No fire suddenly rose from the bowl. Nobody suddenly got possessed. Jean was about to open his mouth to say that  _ clearly _ this was not the way to summon a demon.

He nearly jumped out of his fucking skin when the door opened and the doorknob bounced against the wall with a loud  _ thud.  _ The quiet girl shrieked. Connie and Sasha jumped across the pentagram to wrap their arms around each other like a couple of scaredy cats. Eren looked absolutely  _ thrilled.  _ Like this whole time he had been really hoping they’d actually summon a demon. What the fuck.

“School’s about to close, kids!  Time to start heading home,” Hanji announced. “Oh! Eren and Jean. Did you guys join the club?”

Jean groaned again.

They really had summoned a demon.


	3. A Fair Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's got a bone to pick with a certain someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I had a good excuse for not updating for so long but,,, I really don't lmao I was just being a lazy shithead ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯   
> Sorry about that lmao anyways I finished this awhile ago so here ya go this is a thing go for it (un-beta'ed as usual because I'm a fuck so hmu if anything is out of place?? idk whatever)

“Ouija boards are for babies,” Sasha said adamantly. “And there's always one jerk who moves the pointer around just to scare everyone. If you want a spirit, you have to properly summon one.”

Jean sighed. God, how had it come to this? He had gotten dragged into helping the occult club try to summon one measly demon, the club advisor had come in at the worst possible time, and that was it. That was the brief chain of events that led to him actually  _ joining _ the fucking club. While Eren was off at his art club doing his Picasso bullshit and talking with Armin, Jean was being given an introductory lesson on the methods of summoning spirits. Spirits that he was at least ninety percent sure didn't exist. Lovely. 

“And  _ if  _ you insist on using a dumb ouija board, don't do it around the witching hour. They're for babies, yeah, but don't underestimate the spirits.” Sasha seemed really into it. Jean wanted to go home. 

Connie chimed in, “The witching hour is no joke, man. Those evil spirits’ll fuck you up.”

Sasha nodded. “Exactly. They can be mean bastards, y’know.”

He wondered what Eren was working on. The guy had never been good at realistic art; he had once told Jean that he mostly just liked flinging paint around and calling it art. Modern art was an incredible thing. A streak of green and you've got an intense social commentary about the envy humans harbor within themselves. Plus, it was better to get red paint on your hands than blood. Eren had gotten into a lot of fights in middle school and learned that it was  _ always _ better for the red on your knuckles to be paint. 

Yeah, Jean hadn't gotten that memo. Whoops. 

Whatever. It was too late to change anything. What was done was done. But… there were a lot of things that hadn't been done. Jean still hadn't gotten anything but a “I want what's best for my son” out of Grisha. Fuck those evil spirits Sasha kept going on about. Those guys didn't have anything on that man masquerading as a kind and loving father. The biggest problem about the whole thing was that Jean’s mother was home now and she unfortunately cut down on the amount of time he would otherwise have to figure this shit out. He didn't mind his mother. She was okay in his book. That she wanted to spend time pinching his cheeks and cooking for him and asking all about the boyfriend he got while she was away, well, that wasn't so okay. That was pretty shit, actually. 

God, if she wanted to know about Eren so badly, why didn't she just ask Jean to invite him over for dinner? It wasn't like it would be  _ difficult  _ to get him over there. It would probably be a bit difficult to have a good time while she was wandering around the house, though. There were a few things that Jean really wanted to do that he really couldn't as long as there were parents in the area. He had liked it better when his mom wasn't home and he had to do everything himself. At least he didn't always have to worry about her finding out about some of his shady shit while she was gone. 

Sasha slammed her hands down on the table in front of Jean and pulled him out of his thoughts. “Are you even listening?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Beware the witching hour. I get it.”

“We’re gonna have some problems if that's all you're getting out of this.”

“What use is there?” he asked. “If I show up, mumble some bullshit, and do or don't summon a demon, that's all that matters, right? I don't have any reason to know this.”

Sasha actually scoffed at him. She  _ scoffed _ like some high-class lady looking down at a lowly peasant who had the audacity to walk on the same sidewalk as her. “The occult club doesn't  _ only _ operate in the club room. You're gonna need all of this as long as you're one of us.”

“Great. When can I quit?”

“Jean. This is your first day.”

He rolled his eyes. “Which is Hanji’s fault, thank you. It's not like I wanted to get involved.”

Sasha suddenly changed from a high-class lady to a five year old when she stuck her tongue out. “You're in the club now. Shut up and deal with it.”

_ Ugh.  _

 

-

 

Getting to leave the club room was the best thing that had happened to him all day. Well, among the moments that he wasn't with Eren. Nothing could top the satisfaction of having gotten him. Absolutely nothing. 

Parting ways with Eren at the end of the day was always the worst. He never wanted to leave Eren’s side. He'd be content to  _ always _ be together  _ no matter what.  _ That was the plan, too. Get rid of the competition. Let Eren realize that he loved Jean. Confess. Live happily ever after. So far it was going pretty damn well, aside from a few stray murders he hadn't originally planned on. 

Having the blessing of being able to get up every day and go to school, to see Eren, to  _ be  _ with Eren… Nothing else mattered. No one else mattered. Eren was the only thing he well and truly cared about. 

His mother called him downstairs for dinner around the regular time that evening. He sat at his regular place and she sat across from him the way she always did. It was a perfectly normal family dinner. 

“I'm not sure I want you around Eren that much,” his mother suddenly said, nearly making him choke on his food. 

“Excuse me?”

She shrugged. “I know his family. I've known them for a long time, actually, and they aren't the kind of people I want around.”

He put his fork down before he did something with it that he'd regret. “I can stay away from his family.”

“I'm just worried about you. I don't want that family to hurt you.” She was a bit red in the face, the way she got when she didn't particularly like what she was saying. “I'm sure Eren is a lovely boy. His family is much less so. Especially that father of his. If he did anything to you, I just don't know what I'd do. You're my son. I have to protect you to the best of my ability.”

A sense of dread settled in his gut. “What's wrong with his father?”

She shook her head. “Where do I start? I met him in college, back when I was in my second semester of senior year. He took a lot of science courses, but I think his major was something to do with management. Anyways, there was a dissection they had to do in one of his classes, and I remember seeing him later that day. He was all smiling and happy and talking about how  _ fascinating _ the dissection was. And he didn't just do that kind of thing in school. Everyone knew that if he found an injured animal of any kind that he'd take it home and cut it apart. He's sick in the head. I have to keep you safe from him. He was also friends with that creepy little guy that broke your leg.”

Jean straightened in his seat. For some reason, he wasn't entirely surprised. Levi was a freak of nature. It was only natural that the people he hung around with were too. “Mom. If you feel like you have to protect me from him, I need you to realize that I feel like I have to protect Eren. I'm not going to stop seeing him.”

He was a bit surprised when his mom started to laugh to herself. “Of course not. You were always a stubborn child.” She took a deep breath and erased her laughter. “Just promise me you'll be careful around those people. It's been a long time since I was in college and first met him and his group of freaks, but I doubt that time changed any of them. If that one little guy was still a creep, what's to say the others aren't?”

“I'll be careful. I promise.”

He was going to have to have a nice long chat with Grisha Jeäger. 

 

-

 

Finding the time for that chat was a lot harder than it sounded. As it turned out, getting one on one time with a grown man was actually a bit difficult when you had to juggle a club you didn't want to be a part of, homework you didn't want to do, and never wanting to leave your boyfriend for more than two seconds at a time. 

His  _ boyfriend.  _ God. That really wasn't ever going to get old. 

The  _ Informant _ had been using every possible excuse to get out of talking to Jean ever since everything calmed down and they had met. He had important work things to do, he was busy running errands, he hadn’t  _ slept well _ and didn't have the energy to talk to Jean the way he used to. All of his excuses added up to nothing but a massive pile of steaming shit. 

_ I want what's best for my son.  _

He had taken Mikasa in when her parents died. If he hadn't, well, she probably would have ended up in the system. A corrupt, dirty system where she'd probably fall through the cracks when her support system had to change every two months. But at least she would have lived. She might have never crossed paths with Jean. The odds of anyone else chopping her up into tiny little pieces were absolutely  _ minuscule.  _

But their families had known each other for a long, long time. It would have been incredibly cruel to force her into the system when she could just live with people she already knew and trusted. People who would love her and take care of her as if she was their own flesh and blood. She practically was, anyways. Eren’s family and Mikasa’s family were practically one entity. Mikasa was the daughter Grisha and Carla never had. She was one of them. 

Grisha let her fall. He must have seen it all, every last second leading up to her developing some feelings that certainly didn't belong among members of the same family. Feelings towards her brother, a sweet and outspoken boy that would risk his life for the people he loved. She didn't realize that he couldn't love her the way she loved him, though, and Grisha must have known. Was it pity? Some sick version of mercy? Encouraging someone to kill his would-be daughter wasn't something a man could do without some kind of motive. It wasn't for shits and giggles. He set Jean down the path of a murderer, he encouraged the murder of his adopted daughter, he had the  _ nerve _ to say that it was for Eren’s sake. 

Sure, everything Jean had done was also for Eren’s sake, but it was different. Jean had never been close to the girl. Grisha had watched her grow up and had taken an active role in raising her. If he felt any kind of love for her the way everyone assumed he did, he had thrown it all away without batting an eye. He let her die.

No. He had her killed. 

“Jean. You're gonna break that fork.” Eren said with a kick to the shin. “I mean, I know  _ Armin _ could break that fork too, but come on. You're doing the angry eyebrow thing, too.”

“The  _ what?” _ He put the plastic fork back down on his lunch tray. Eren was right. Anyone could break those flimsy things, but it wasn't an everyday thing for someone to break one without even making an effort. 

“The thing,” he repeated as if that made it any more clear what he was talking about. “Your eyebrows get all furrowed. Not in the concentrating way, though. The angry way.”

Jean took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “I have no idea what any of that means.”

Eren smiled like this was funny to him. “It's a thing. Trust me.”

“Whatever you say.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Adult things.”

He got a scoff in response. “Your mom is home. I’m calling bullshit on  _ adult things.  _ You don't even think about passing finals that hard.” Eren's voice softened when he asked, “Seriously, what's wrong?”

“Honestly?” He shrugged. “I want to talk to your dad. It was just me and mom growing up, so I guess she’s a bit worried about me. The least I can do to help put her mind at rest is to talk with him and see if there’s really any need for her to be concerned.”

“My dad?” Eren asked. “That’s it? You just want to have a conversation with my father?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s easy enough. Come over for dinner tonight. I’ll get you some time with him.”

God. He could count on Eren for anything. “Thank you,” he said, entirely genuine. “You’re the best.”

Eren just grinned and said, “Yeah, I know.”

What an asshole. 

Despite how much of an arrogant, irritating bastard Eren could be, he was true to his word. Jean convinced his mom to let him go to Eren’s for dinner and Eren sure as hell got an appointment set up for him. Dinner passed in record time, leading Jean to follow Grisha out to the back porch for a post-dinner cup of tea and conversation. 

Jean looked out at the backyard. It was so… typical. It was a well manicured lawn of green grass, there were flowers growing along the fences, there was a little vegetable garden in the corner, and glass doors on the shed showed an interior that was seemingly home to only a couple of rakes and a single shovel. It wasn't the yard of a man who let his adopted daughter be killed. Whatever that kind of yard looked like, anyways. 

It scared him. That was what people meant when they said not to judge a book by its cover. The ugliest of covers could have the most beautiful of stories and, as it turned out, the prettiest of covers could hide grisly stories never meant to see the light of day. Jean was still just a kid living with his mother, eating meals cooked for him and--though rarely--asking for help with questions he wasn't quite sure of. But he had killed people.

He took advantage of the niceness in Mikasa and her unwillingness to completely ignore the seemingly kind act he had done for her. He cut her to pieces. Sometimes, late at night when he woke up and the house was completely quiet, he could almost hear her. He could imagine that she was still down in that basement, tied up and bloodied and  _ dying _ all over something she couldn't control. 

He glanced over at Grisha. If that was the story he was hiding behind his own cover, he had a right to know what was behind Grisha’s. That man was as much of a killer as Jean was. 

“There’s a mulch grinder underneath the workbench in the shed,” Grisha said in an unbelievably casual voice. “What do you suppose I've used that for?”

Jean took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “I'm not sure I want to know.”

“I've only used it for its intended purpose. I'm not the kind of man who does things needlessly.” He calmly took a sip of tea. Jean resisted the impulse to knock the cup out of his hand and demand a more solid answer. “You want to know everything and, frankly, I don't have a true need to comply. I've learned that I need to be at least somewhat truthful with you, though. You completely exceeded my expectations when it comes to finding information.”

“If you don't do anything needlessly, tell me why it was necessary for Mikasa to die.” If the feeling that was overwhelming him as he spoke of her was guilt, he would have preferred to never have felt anything to begin with. “Tell me why you pushed me to take away her future. Why her death was needed.”

Grisha sat the cup of tea down on the table and folded his hands. “Because she knew too much. Oh, don't look at me that way. I know, how cliché can the old man get? Let me explain. After everything you've been through recently, I'm sure you now understand how far back all of this goes. Back to my younger years, the younger years of me and all my friends. Back to when Levi first… attached himself, shall we say, to Erwin.”

For fuck’s sake. Jean didn't come out here for a history lesson. Goddamn it. 

Still, he sat and listened. He listened well. Back then, so long ago, bloodstains formed on Grisha’s hands as he tried to help his good old pal Levi get what he wanted. And once Levi was content and Grisha had found the woman who would be his wife, they mostly parted ways. 

Both he and Carla had experience in  _ journalism  _ of all things. When Erwin became headmaster--still and forever blind to the crimes of his beloved and his friend--he enlisted Grisha’s help to keep tabs on the children to make sure they didn't get into too much trouble. To make sure they did as they were told, didn't fight, didn't get up to any shady business, didn't do  _ anything _ that could even put a tiny scratch on the school’s reputation. 

That was why he knew so much. That was why he knew  _ every little detail  _ of every single person. He had never let on back then that Levi was anything less than a model human being or that he himself was anything less than a perfectly dependable friend, and he certainly didn't intend to start. He had a family to think of, he had a son getting ready to go to that school. A son that he would move mountains to protect. 

But he was sloppy when he first started helping Erwin keep an eye on everything. He was careless and Mikasa found out that he was essentially spying on the school’s students. And she wasn't happy. Not one bit. 

Jean’s stomach hurt as Grisha took another sip of his tea. “She dug too deep. She was like you, actually. Or perhaps you are like her. In any case, she eventually found out about the things I did with Levi back then. Things that were better left buried.” He scoffed. “She was never in love with Eren. She really did think of him as a brother, nothing else. She was going to tell him what I had done, not that she was in love with him. You understand that I couldn't let her do that.”

His hands trembled. “You mean that I didn't kill her because she loved Eren. I killed her because your nasty history was going to come out?”

“Precisely.” Another calm sip of tea. “The second boy was interested, though, if that's of any comfort. He would have tried to pull Eren into some things that he shouldn't have anything to do with. You really did protect Eren with that one.”

“And Annie?”

“She was far more interested in Mikasa than she ever was Eren. That said, she was fully prepared to latch onto him to try to keep a piece of her around.” He gave a smile and said, “You didn't harm Armin, though. Good job on sparing him. He's always been a nice kid. It would have been a real shame for him to die.”

Jean’s mother was right. This man was insane. He was absolutely crazy. He was a horrible person that he needed to stay away from and oh good  _ lord  _ he had to save Eren from this guy.

“As for the most recent of events, the ones concerning Levi, I'm afraid that not even I know everything. Levi was very closed off to anyone that wasn't Erwin. I had no idea that it was possible for someone like him to latch on to another person the way he already had to Erwin, but he proved that it could be done. And it was my boy that he wanted. My  _ son.  _ Thank god that we had already worked out this little arrangement. Otherwise he might be dead instead of in a prison.”

Jean scoffed. “He would have been better off in the ground. I should have killed him.”

“And yet you feel remorse for some of the others.”

“I'm not a total monster.” He stood up, swallowing down the sickness he felt. “But if any of them truly deserved to die, it was him. I regret not being able to slam his head into the concrete.”

“There's one more thing on your mind. I can tell. What is it?”

Jean gritted his teeth. He hated that man. He wasn't supposed to be able to read Jean’s face. No one was. Not even Eren. Because Eren needed to be kept safe. “How did you know about  _ me?”  _ he asked anyways. “About what I'm like. You hardly even knew me back then.”

Grisha smiled kindly like he was a normal person. “I have plenty of experience with your kind.” He, too, stood. “And I know that at the end of the day, you won't do anything to me. I helped you get what you want. You're a fair person, aren't you? So you'll keep this conversation as our little secret.”

Goddamn it. 


	4. Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was still something Jean had to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at like midnight so its a bit short and may be a bit MEH but y'know how it is

It was Sunday afternoon when Jean’s phone started to ring with a familiar tone. He had just spent all of his Saturday cleaning out the basement while his mom did the garage and, had it been anyone else’s ringtone, he would have let it go. But he couldn't. He could never ignore Eren. 

“Hey,” he answered. Whatever pain had been in his muscles drained away. He hoped that he made Eren feel as good as Eren did for Jean. 

But Eren didn't sound like himself when he said, “Hey,” in a flat tone that Jean hadn't heard since Mikasa first went missing. 

They must have found it. 

 

-

 

Saturday night. His arms ached, his lower back made it hard to stand up straight, and his legs felt like they were going to fail him and he'd fall to the ground. His mother had woken him up early that morning, saying that it was time for some yearly cleaning. She offered him the choice of the garage or the basement. 

His first reaction was to take the garage where he'd at least get some fresh air, but thinking about what there was to be found in either area made him change his mind rather quickly. He had forgotten about it for a long time, considering that he had other things going on that were slightly more interesting to him. For instance, eliminating the rest of the people he had thought were his rivals, Eren, the realization that Grisha Jeäger had been pulling the strings all along, Eren, the occult club, Eren. Pretty much everything was more pressing than something he had thrown in a freezer they hardly used but still kept plugged in. 

So he took the basement. All day he spent looking at things, inside boxes, deciding if it would get to sit for another year or if it's time was up. He worked his way slowly to the wall where everything had started, and then towards the corner where the freezer stood. 

He had kept her head. 

He didn't know why. He didn't know what logic there was behind anything he had done down there that day. Honestly, he didn't remember most of it. If she pleaded with him, if she tried to bargain for her life, if she tried to convince him that she had never done anything wrong, he hadn't heard a word of it. He had turned into a monster. 

That was what he was. A monster. That was why Mikasa’s head was still in his fucking freezer. He had to get rid of it. And he had to make sure there was no way they could trace it back to him. 

That was why he waited until nightfall. Despite his aches and pains, despite wanting to curl up and sleep for  _ forever,  _ he stayed awake until his mother was asleep and then went down into the basement. He wore gloves as he picked it-- _ her _ \--up and moved her to a plastic bag from the local grocery store. Loads of people shopped there. Nobody would be able to trace that bag back to him. Especially not after he threw it in the water. 

There was a pond in the park, usually occupied by a million mosquitos and an occasional goose, that was his chosen dumping ground. He tied the bag tight and threw it out as far as he could, knowing damn well that someone was going to find it eventually. He had been careful, he knew it. There would be no ties connecting him and the head. 

It would have been easier to throw it in the incinerator like he had the rest of her body, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do that. Even if it was brutal, if it was fucked to hell and back, even if it would hurt Eren more than Jean ever wanted to see, he had to let at least one part of her be found. Eren and his mother, at least, deserved that closure. 

What he had done could never be forgiven. 

 

-

 

“Jean, they--they found Mikasa,” Eren said after a moment of silence and sniffling. “They found a  _ part _ of her.”

Of course they did. They would never find the rest. “What happened?” he asked, doing his best to sound interested and surprised and concerned. He was concerned about Eren, yes, but not so much the other two. 

Eren took a shaky breath. “They found her  _ head,  _ Jean. Nothing else. Just her head. The sick fuck who took her  _ decapitated her.” _

He added in a shocked tone and a bit of stuttering when he said, “But… Why would anyone  _ do _ that?”

Because he had been led to believe that she was in his way. 

“I don't know. Nobody knows. There's no fucking leads, either.”

Of course not. He had been too clean. 

“Are you gonna be okay? Do you want me to come over?”

He could never make up for what he had done, but the least he could do was be there for someone who was feeling the effects of his actions. 

“W-Would you mind? My parents are still at the station and I just… I don't wanna be alone right now.”

If Jean had anything to say about it, Eren would never be alone again. 

“I'm on my way. I'll be there in just a little bit, okay? Stay strong until I get there.”

As if he had to tell  _ Eren  _ that. Eren was one of the strongest people Jean knew, if not  _ the _ strongest. 

“Thank you.”

It took all the strength Jean had to not say, “I'm sorry.”


	5. Free Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew that there'd be a problem when they found... it. And now they have and Eren's a wreck but it just couldn't stop there, could it? He can never catch a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SORRY I literally have no written plan for this part like I did for the first part, so,,, I'm just kind of winging it? And it doesn't always help? I'm dying? But I got this done and I've started on the next chapter soooooo that's a thing. God knows when I'm gonna be done with this shit tho

Eren curled up against Jean as he flipped through the channels trying to find something to set as background noise. Eren had been trembling when Jean got to his house. Tear tracks trailed down his face. His eyes were red and puffy. His voice sounded like it had been put through a shredder. 

Jean settled on a nature documentary and tossed the remote to the end of the bed, finally wrapping that other arm around Eren and pulling him as close as he could. It was his fault. It was all his fault. If Eren knew that  _ Jean _ was the reason Mikasa was dead, if he knew that  _ Jean _ was the sick fuck who decapitated her, he’d never forgive him. He'd never be able to love him. And then it would all have been for nothing. 

Eren’s breath was shaky as he tried to keep himself from crying. There was nothing to say. Nothing that needed to be said. Eren had asked Jean to come over and so Jean did, but Eren didn't need a conversation. All he needed was comfort.

Comfort and for his sister to still be alive. For all of this to have never happened. Jean held in his arms the most important person in the world, and yet… he wasn't happy. Not then. No, because he only had the privilege of holding Eren because his sister’s  _ decapitated head  _ had been found and he couldn't stand to be alone while his parents talked with the police. Because he was scared and confused and angry and sad. Because Jean had murdered an innocent girl. 

And even if most of the blame could be placed on Jean, the fact stood that absolutely  _ none _ of this would have happened if it hadn't been for Eren’s father. Grisha. Grisha caused this. 

Grisha turned Jean from an emotionless husk into a monster. 

He would have preferred to stay a husk. Fuck. 

“Jean?” Eren whispered, his voice strained from his sore throat. 

“Yeah?”

“I'm scared. T-There's some crazy person running around out there, killing people, mutilating them… Who's next? What if they come after me?” He grabbed a fistful of Jean’s shirt. “What if they come after you?”

Jean kissed the top of Eren’s head. “It'll be okay. I'll protect you.”

“But who's gonna protect you?” He paused and then said, “I can't lose you. I don't know what I'd do.”

Suddenly the guilt that had been eating away at Jean’s stomach disappeared. It was mostly Grisha’s fault anyways, so why did he have to feel so bad? Especially when Eren said things like that, things he never would have said if Jean hadn’t committed that first murder. Eren wanted him around. Eren  _ needed _ him. There was nothing more satisfying than that. “I was kinda hoping you’d protect me,” he replied. Eren couldn't see the soft smile on Jean’s face. “I can be a damsel in distress too, you know. I need my prince just as much as you need yours.”

Eren chuckled, the nicest sound that he had made since Jean got there. “That sounds about right. I'll do my best.”

“You always do.”

Then the sound of the front door opening caught their attention. 

 

-

 

Jean took a deep breath before he opened the club room door. And he immediately wished that he hadn't opened it. Sasha was wearing some weird ass robes and standing on a table, Connie was poorly reciting a Latin incantation from a book, and the quiet girl who’s name Jean  _ still _ didn't know was sitting in the corner of the room, writing away in a notebook. He had found out not too long ago that her notebook was some weird as voodoo magic spell book or whatever, which honestly didn't surprise him as much as it should have. 

He hated the fucking occult club. 

“Jean!” Sasha yelled when she saw him come in. “You're just in time!”

Oh lord. “What's going on now?”

She grinned. “We are going to be reaching out to spirits and talking to them.”

He sighed and took his jacket off, throwing it on the table Sasha was standing on. “We do that anyways.”

Sasha rolled her eyes and Connie groaned. “Jean, Jean, Jean,” she said, “this is  _ totally  _ different. We usually try to just get  _ whoever.  _ Not this time! This time we’ll be reaching out to the spirits of the dearly departed who we used to know!”

Oh  _ lord.  _ “Why?” he asked, taking a seat on the floor where he was usually directed to anyways. “They're dead. Time to move on.”

“Nobody ever truly dies,” she replied. She said that a lot during club activities. It was really annoying, honestly. “Besides, nobody thinks that someone they loved is entirely gone after they die. People believe in the afterlife and the spirit realm and--”

“I know, Sasha. We've had this conversation before. Blah, blah, blah, people don't die because their spirits aren't destroyed, blah, blah.”

“Don't be a jerk, Jean,” Connie said when he decided that he had fucked up the Latin enough times. “There's gotta be someone you wanna talk to.”

He shook his head. It wasn't worth mentioning that his mother was the only immediate family he had around and she, obviously, was not dead. “Not really. You know I'm not into this kind of thing.”

Sasha tapped her chin in a contemplative manner until the metaphorical lightbulb came on. “Alright,” she said, jumping down from the table, “this might be a bit… weird, considering recent events, but I  _ distinctly _ remember that you had a major crush on Mikasa at one point--”

“No,” Jean interrupted. “No. Not now. Not ever. I am not going to try to contact Mikasa.”

Connie’s mouth curled into a grin. “Aw, are you  _ scared _ of her?” His question was absolutely dripping with sarcasm. 

Jean rolled his eyes. “Why would I be afraid of a dead girl?” Maybe because he had killed her, but that technically wasn't his fault. Even though it was. Murder was confusing. At least,  _ her _ murder was confusing. 

He could live with what he’d done to Reiner and Annie. They had actually been standing in his way. He hadn't been lied to about them. 

“I bet you're still embarrassed about when you had a crush on her,” Connie said. 

“Or maybe I want to respect her spirit, considering that she's fucking dead.”

“Or you're scared.”

“You know I  _ will _ punch you, right?”

“Jean.” Sasha laid a hand on his shoulder. “Fine. You can sit this one out. It fucked Eren up, right? By extension it must've fucked you up, too. And the whole business with that crush you used to have on her probably isn't helping.”

Connie had disbelief written across his face. “You're letting him off the hook?”

“It was insensitive,” she replied. “But make no mistake! We are going forth with this experiment! I've just elected to give Jean a free pass on this one.”

Thank  _ fuck.  _

 

-

 

Eren hadn't come to school that day, naturally. Jean gathered the day’s handouts to take to him after school, though he highly doubted Eren would be in any mood for homework. Jean made a mental note to ask Eren if it would be okay if he did all of it for him so he wouldn't have to stress about it. There really was nothing he wouldn't do for Eren, apparently. 

Jean took a deep breath as he stood on Eren’s front porch. He had come into such good standing with Eren’s parents--Carla, mostly, since Grisha was a massive piece of shit who only cared about himself despite what he  _ said  _ about loving his son--that he had been given a key to the house. 

“Just in case,” Carla had whispered when she handed it to him. Like she knew something. She seemed like a smart enough woman; if she knew anything about what her husband had done, she had also proved herself to be incredibly loyal. But he didn't think she knew. She was too happy. 

He used his key to unlock the door and enter the house. No voices greeted him. No music played anywhere, no sounds of video games, nothing. Wasn't one of Eren’s parents supposed to be there with him? It was easy to assume that maybe Eren had fallen asleep for a nap, but he wasn't supposed to be alone. Everyone had decided that he needed someone around at all times. 

Jean made his way to Eren’s room, walking slowly across the carpet and holding his breath. If Eren was asleep he really didn't want to wake him up, of course. The door of Eren’s room was closed. He reached out and slowly, gently, opened the door. 

Eren was sitting on his bed and facing the wall, blankets pulled up around him like some kind of barrier. He was hunched over his laptop, slowly scrolling down through the school’s Facebook page. Jean cleared his throat. 

“Nobody’s even mentioned her,” he said sadly, looking over at the doorway where Jean stood. “Not one post, Jean. Not one. Like she never even existed.”

“The school probably doesn't want posts about dead students on their page,” Jean offered as an explanation. “Might scare away prospective students.”

Eren sighed. “I miss her.”

“I know.”

Eren closed the laptop and slid it away from him. “What's gonna happen now? Do you think they can find out who did it?”

“Maybe.” He wasn't about to say that he hoped they didn't. But he really didn't want them to find him. So maybe he felt guilty about what he had done, but for the most part, he was… happy. He was really happy. 

Lord. He needed to get his mood swings under control. 

He shook his head to clear it of thoughts and said, “Hey. Let's go somewhere.”

“Like where?”

“I dunno. Thought maybe we could get some fucking donuts.”

And Eren, bless his heart, smiled at the memory of that invitation from all that time ago. Before Annie died, though after Mikasa and Reiner. But things had been different then. Eren had still been holding onto the hope that Mikasa would find her way home, completely unharmed. And in one piece. 

Things definitely hadn't turned out the way he had hoped, but seeing Jean there with that understanding look on his face and  _ knowing _ that he would always be there like that, always by Eren’s side, was enough to make him think that maybe he could move on one day. Like all he needed was to hold Jean’s hand and everything would work itself out sooner or later. 

“Let's go get some fucking donuts,” he replied. 

 

-

 

It was lunchtime on Monday when Jean’s phone started to buzz. He groaned and pulled it out of his pocket, earning a bit of a  _ look _ from Eren. Eren, who had finally come back to school after almost a month since the discovery of Mikasa’s head. Eren, who had swallowed his pride and started going to  _ therapy _ to try to move past everything that happened. Eren, who had found creative and healthy ways to get his emotions out instead of bottling them up until he exploded. 

Eren. The light of Jean’s life. 

The strongest person he knew.

And Eren was his. All his. Forever.

That was what he was sure of, anyways. That was why his heart dropped into his stomach when he read the text message he had received. 

_ There's been a complication. Another Ackerman showed up. He's not happy about what happened to Levi.  _

Jean typed out a panicked,  _ What’s his name? _

And all he got in response was,  _ You'll have to find that out yourself.  _


	6. Ackerman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor shows up. Jean is not getting paid enough for this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just in: I'm still a piece of shit who forgets to write and update her own damn fics lmao but I got it done eventually so??? Here's a thing.

Even though nothing could be proved, there was more than a bit of speculation that Levi was behind what had happened to Mikasa. Whispers and rumors blazed through the school during the month Eren was gone after she had been found. Unfortunately for him, though, the rumors had not stopped when Eren returned. He heard. He heard what everyone was thinking, what was said to have happened.

He held Jean’s hand more often from then on. He needed support, more so than he ever had. Maybe it would have been better, he once said, if he hadn't come back. Hearing the names  _ Levi _ and  _ Mikasa _ in the same sentence did nothing but hurt him. Did nothing but cause more suffering that even his therapist and his medications and his support system couldn't do away with.

He was supposed to be worrying about graduation, not the death of his sister and a man who would likely never breathe free air again. But he couldn't find it in him to worry about that. All he wanted to do was leave school as soon as possible and go home. Somewhere safe where he wouldn't have to hear about those horrors. 

At least, that's how it was for a little while. He held Jean’s hand in the hallway and whispered to him at lunch, spent nearly every waking moment with him or Armin or his parents. It was a pain to keep from telling him just what one of those parents had done. The real pain, though, was when Eren started to feel  _ better.  _ Of course Jean wanted Eren to be happy and healthy and able to take care of himself, but he didn't think it would be so soon. A few weeks of holding onto Jean for dear life, a few weeks of medication and calls and emails with a therapist, a few weeks of struggling, and then it started to smooth itself out. 

And Eren didn't need Jean as much anymore. 

It made him remember why he had been so eager to kill in the first place.

It was frustrating. All that time they spent so close because of Mikasa’s disappearance followed by Eren sneaking out at night to go over be with Jean after they found her head, and then Eren could stand on his own two feet again. He found some sort of peace. So suddenly, so  _ easily,  _ he came to school a smile on his face and said that he had gotten through the night without any bad dreams or tears. 

And so there Jean was, sitting in the occult club room while Christa worked her sewing club magic on some weird summoner’s robe for Sasha, trying to tap out a message to Eren that didn't make him sound like a desperate sack of shit. Which he was, sure, but Eren didn't need to know that. 

He deleted and retyped his text five times before he finally just sent,  _ Do you wanna come over for movies on Saturday? _

It was a miracle that nobody in the room heard his heart shatter when he got a reply saying,  _ sorry!! armin and i made plans to go to the mall. _

Fuck. 

 

-

 

Eren still loved him. He had to keep reminding himself that. Eren still looked so happy to see Jean every day, still made sure to send him goodnight texts, still sat as close as he could without some teacher getting kissed off. Eren still loved him. He was just… becoming more like the old Eren, like the version of himself that he was back before everything happened. Eren wouldn't betray him. Eren wouldn't leave him for someone else. Eren was  _ his,  _ goddamn it.

He wasn't going to let anyone take him away. 

It was Saturday when the doorbell rang, the day Eren was out at the mall with Armin and Jean was left alone with his homework and his mother. He was halfway through with a math worksheet when the sudden  _ ding-dong _ of the bell scared him out of his skin. And even though he was almost done with that problem, curiosity got the better of him and he snuck down the hall as his mom answered the door. 

A stranger stood on the front porch. He was an older man of considerable height with wrinkles and graying hair tucked underneath a bowler hat. If it hadn't been for the murderous look in his eyes, he might have looked like a respectable, attractive gentleman. But the black coat he wore and the death in his eyes… Jean knew that look. It was the look of someone who had watched the life drain from a person’s body. Someone who had held the knife and slit throats. 

“Hello,” his mother said in her usual polite tone. “How can I help you?”

The man reached into his coat and withdrew a small leather wallet that he opened to reveal a fancy looking badge and ID. Well, shit. “I'm with the investigation unit. I need to speak with your son.”

“Jean? What does he have to do with anything?”

“As far as we know right now, nothing. My partner and I just have a few standard questions for him, considering his proximity to Miss Ackerman’s family.”

“Of course,” she said, though Jean could hear her hesitation. “Please, take a seat.”

That was when he slunk back to his room to pretend he hadn't been eavesdropping, although it wouldn't do much good to act surprised by the arrival of investigators. 

His mother did exactly what he knew she was bound to do. She knocked on his door, told him there were some people there who needed to speak to him, and kindly led him to the dining room where the murderous man and another we're sitting. The second had been standing out of his line of sight when they were on the porch, evidently; Jean would have noticed the blonde, almost depressed looking woman if he had been able to. 

“Mr. Kirstein,” the man said when he sat down across the table from them. “I'll try to not waste your time.”

Jean shrugged. “It's no big deal.” It was. “I've already said everything I know. I don't have anything left to hide.” A lie. 

“Then we shouldn't have any problems,” the man said. “Allow me to introduce us. This is my partner, Traute Carven. She’ll be making a written note of this interview, so you don't have to expect to answer any questions from her.”

The woman--Investigator Carven--reached across the table to shake Jean’s hand. Her grip was impressive for the thinness of the rest of her frame. She hid her strength. 

The man reached out his hand next. Jean took it and wasn't surprised to find out that his grip was even stronger than Carven’s. “I'll be leading this interview,” he said. “My name is Kenny.”

“And what's your  _ full  _ name?” Jean asked. Investigators usually included their last names. He didn't like not knowing.

Kenny offered a grin that made Jean’s blood run cold. “Kenny Ackerman.”

Oh,  _ shit.  _

 

_ - _

 

Kenny Ackerman was vicious. The interview dragged on forever, each question a land mine just waiting to go off. He was tricksy with his words, phrasing things in such a way that Jean had to pick the sentence apart word by word to make sure he didn't incriminate himself when he answered. And he was persistent, pressing for every detail and not stopping until he thought he had squeezed out every ounce of truth. 

This was all Grisha’s fault. He'd have to pay him another visit one of these days. Assuming Kenny Ackerman didn't find a flaw in his story and send him straight to the pits of hell where all of his other opponents had gone. 

Jean looked him up once it was all over and the investigators had left. He took it as a good sign that they didn't try to haul him away with them, but what was there to promise they wouldn't be back later? That they wouldn't come back with more questions that were harder to answer, with evidence he couldn't explain away, with the  _ tiniest _ thing that he hadn't taken care of that proved his guilt?

What he found was more than enough to make him really consider what the odds were that he'd get away with eliminating Kenny. The man was older, taller, stronger, more experienced… The odds were total shit, really, but the fact that Kenny was Levi’s  _ uncle  _ made him almost want to take the risk just to save his own ass. 

It made sense that they were related, now that Jean thought about it. They both had the same killer aura and set to their face. And, really, how common was the last name  _ Ackerman?  _ It had been interesting enough that it was shared between Mikasa and Levi despite their lack of relation, so a third unrelated Ackerman would have been too much. Far too much.

But it made him wonder what their relationship was like. Kenny had a nearly flawless track record of catching whoever had fucked up. If he and Levi were close enough that Kenny wanted to seek some kind of revenge, surely he would have figured out a thing or two about his nephew? Perhaps his sense of justice only applied to people he wasn't related to. Jean could imagine him as the corrupt type who tried to get someone off the hook just because he knew them. Jean wouldn’t trust that man father than he could throw him.

He had the distinct feeling that Kenny would be back around sooner or later. Clearly he suspected  _ something,  _ what with the pointed questions and accusatory glances. Jean knew. He knew that this last Ackerman was going to be a royal pain in the ass. A royal fucking pain. 

He had done too much to have this one man get in his way. There was no other option. He had this one last target to take out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is gonna be pretty chill. I had originally meant for this sequel thing to be calm and fun and everything, but that just kind of... went out the window. It's dead. This got way serious. Whoops.  
> Anyways, yeah. I figured we could deal with a chapter of fun times instead of murder. So look forward to that! I'll be trying to finish this fic by November since NaNoWriMo approaches and I really don't want to either have two projects going all month or put this on hold for a full month, so I'm gonna be working hard here. Enjoy! <3


	7. Con Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go on a date.

It was half-past seven when the doorbell rang again. Jean’s heart sunk down into his stomach; what  _ now?  _ Hadn't it been enough that he had gone through that process with Kenny Ackerman earlier? There was only so much he could deal with in one day. Fuck’s sake. The weekends were supposed to be for relaxing. 

Jean didn't get up from his seat in his room. Not again. Nope. Not today, Satan. Not today. No more. If anyone else wanted to speak to him, they'd have to get put on a waiting list. He was not getting paid for this shit.

He was vaguely aware of his mother’s voice and one other, a male voice he couldn't be bothered to try to recognize. He just wanted to sit and read his fucking book. Everyone else could fuck off. 

At least, that was what he thought until his bedroom door flung open. He looked up and his heart jumped from his stomach to his throat in an instant. 

“I thought you were still busy,” he said, rather flat in his surprise.

“Nah. We finished awhile ago,” Eren told him. “And I decided it's still early, so I'm takin’ you out. Now.”

“What?”

“You heard me. We’re going out.”

“Like, on a date?”

“No, I'm taking you to a funeral. The fuck do you think?”

Jean smiled the kind of smile he could only give to Eren. “Fair enough.” So he got up and, despite everything he had  _ thought _ about not interacting with anyone else for the rest of the night, he followed Eren out. “Where are we going?” he asked as he closed the front door behind them.

Eren looked back at him and fucking  _ winked  _ and Jean almost passed out right then and there. His voice was teasing and maddening when he said “It's a secret.”

 

-

 

Eren’s family wasn't exactly suffering in the money department, so Jean hadn't questioned it when he first found out that Eren already had a car of his own. A car he had been taken around in a  _ lot _ before his leg finished healing. What he did question, however, was why they left it sitting in Jean’s driveway and walked. 

Eren just smiled at him, not saying a damn thing, but somehow that smile was enough for Jean to drop his line of questioning. 

That was why they had a chance to just hold hands and catch up a bit. The days were getting longer as summer approached, leaving a soft light for them to walk in as the sun sank beneath the horizon. 

Eren smiled and laughed as he told Jean about his day with Armin, as he pulled out his phone to show him the pictures they had taken of them with ugly merchandise they had no intention of buying. Jean wasn't even paying attention to what direction they were headed in or how much time was passing. He didn't care. Screw the rest of the world working around them. Nothing outside of his and Eren’s little bubble meant a damn thing. Not a damn thing.

Right there, right then, Jean felt… normal. In that moment, he wasn't a broken record. He wasn't an emotionless husk. He wasn't even a murderer. He was  _ himself,  _ he was the person he was always meant to be. A regular kid, completely head over heels for his boyfriend as they went out for a date.  _ This _ is what he had been born for. To find Eren, to be with Eren, to  _ be _ Eren’s, no matter what. 

As long as Eren wanted him, he was his. And if one day Eren changed his mind, if one day he didn't want Jean anymore, well, Jean was prepared to take himself out of the picture. Permanently. 

His own life was a small price to pay for Eren’s happiness. 

The next time Jean was aware of their surroundings was when Eren stopped walking and smiled so big his eyes shut and said, “Here we are.”

Jean tore his eyes away from Eren to see that he had brought him to… where the fuck were they? Somewhere outside of town, maybe, or an undeveloped part of the suburbs based on how  _ big  _ the empty field in front of them was. Well, it was probably normally empty, anyways. Right now it was full of people, full of food stands, full of games and small rides and displays. Warm lights and laughter. An energy in the air that sunk deep into Jean’s bones and made him feel like he was somehow a part of something, even if he hadn’t  _ done _ anything yet.

“I saw it on TV this morning,” Eren said. “This weekend only. I thought it'd be fun, but, I mean, we could go somewhere else if you're not into this sort of thing.”

Jean looked back to Eren and swore his heart was about to burst. Eren saw something like this on TV and thought about  _ him.  _ He wanted to go with  _ Jean,  _ no one else. He hadn't invited anyone else. He wanted this memory to be with Jean. 

And suddenly Jean felt like a fool for ever worrying that Eren might be growing apart from him. 

Despite the fact that Jean had never been able to be bothered to go to a fair of any kind before, he wholeheartedly meant it when he said, “I love this kind of thing.”

He loved Eren. Goddamn. He loved Eren  _ so fucking much.  _

With that validation, Eren excitedly grabbed Jean’s hand with both hands and pulled him off into the crowd. 

 

-

 

“Oh,  _ come on!” _ Eren yelled. “That totally should have fallen!”

The man behind the counter shrugged and said, “Sorry, kid. You can always play again.”

Eren huffed. This was already the third time he had tried this stupid shooting game. He was determined to knock down the entire pyramid of six bottles, but the most he had gotten so far was four. Considering that he got three shots for each time he played, he was getting really irritated real quick. It was kind of cute. 

Jean sighed and took a step forward, planting himself at the shooting station next to Eren’s. “I'll play a round,” he told the man, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out his wallet. He was gonna knock down all those damn bottles right then and there, if only to win the game so Eren wouldn't have to spend any more money on that ripoff. 

The man took Jean’s money with a smirk. “Good luck to ya,” he said in a slightly condescending manner. 

“I'm tellin’ you, it's fuckin’ rigged,” Eren whined. “I woulda won already if it wasn't.”

“I know, I know,” Jean assured as he grabbed the fake gun and positioned himself. “You would've won the first time, I’m sure.”

Eren crossed his arms in front of him. “Do it, Jean. Beat this con artist’s game.”

The man didn't react. He had probably heard it all before, anyways. Jean rolled his shoulders and lifted the gun, setting his sights on the neck of the bottom left bottle. Took a deep breath. Pulled the trigger.

A small projectile shot out of the gun and hit where he had been aiming with enough force to knock the bottle over. With the bottom left support gone, the middle left swayed and lost balance, toppling over and taking the top bottle with it. 

Eren made an excited sound. He had always aimed at the dead center of the bottles, bless his heart. Aiming at the neck, up towards the top of the bottle at its thinnest part, was the trick. Was what made the bottles tip and fall. 

Next was the bottom right bottle. He repeated the process, knocking out that bottle and unbalancing the middle right, too. But the bitch stayed up there, even with one of its supports gone. Jean scoffed and Eren groaned in an overly irritated way. It was  _ adorable.  _

Jean straightened his back and took another breath. Aimed at the bottom bottle. Fired. 

And both bottles went down.

Eren made a sound that was some sort of weird mix between elation and offense taken. “How did you  _ do _ that?” he asked once he trusted his voice to not crack as soon as he opened his mouth. 

Jean shrugged. “Luck, I guess.” He wasn't even gonna try to tell Eren that he had been aiming at the totally wrong part of the bottles. 

The man running the game suddenly had a look of defeat on his face. He let out a long sigh and said, “Alright, congratulations. What prize do you want?” There was a very  _ small _ selection of things up on a shelf out of the way of where anyone with half a sense of aiming would shoot at. Jean glanced over at Eren. 

Any decent boyfriend won prizes at fairs for his partner. At least, that's what he had always seen in movies or on TV. He had no idea how true it really was, but he didn't want to risk it. So he chose a prize, a little white stuffed bunny that wore a red bow tie around its neck. And he held it out to Eren and told him that it was for him.

Eren’s face lit up and Jean’s heart nearly beat straight out of his chest. Eren took the bunny and announced that its name was Snowflake and that it was gonna get a permanent spot on his bed. And despite the fact that the man who ran the game was still watching them and there were plenty of people passing by, Eren didn't hesitate to close the gap between them and kiss Jean, right then and there. Jean felt his face getting hot and he fully expected Eren to tease him for blushing so much when he pulled away. There was no teasing, though. Just a smile and a suggestion that they go find a nice food stand and get something to eat. Jean couldn't turn that offer down. 

Eren made sure to hold Jean's hand as they walked. “You know, I was trying to win something for you back there. You beat me to it.”

Jean rolled his eyes. “You don't have to do shit like that.”

“I could say the same to you.” He carried the bunny in his free hand. “I'll pay for food, okay?”

“You blew enough money on that game. Don't worry about it.”

“It was only a couple bucks a play. You're overreacting and I'm paying for food. You're more than welcome to fight me over it, too.”

“Fiiiiiine,” Jean moaned. “You can pay, I guess.”

“Thank you. Pick somethin’ good, alright?”

“Will do.”

 

-

 

It was almost eleven when they finally got back to Jean’s house. Eren had gotten little bags for both of them at one of the stands, giving them something to carry all their new stuff in. Eren had snagged a few more prizes from games, though he had wasted  _ far  _ too much time trying to get them. As for Jean’s loot bag, it was mostly full of small things like pinwheels and ride tickets. And a strip of photos from the photo booth they had found. Photos of them doing stupid shit and hanging on each other and  _ kissing,  _ all covered in cute stickers. 

Jean had always done his best to seem tough and unbreakable. If he showed Eren his weaknesses and Eren couldn't accept them, what would he do? How would he keep  _ living?  _ But there was a weakness he couldn't hide no matter how hard he tried: inexperience. Since he couldn’t  _ feel _ anything, nobody else had ever meant a damn thing to him. Eren was the first person he had ever well and truly  _ loved.  _ And what was the point in getting involved with someone he didn't love?

He couldn't keep himself from blushing if Eren got too close. He couldn't keep from shifting awkwardly if Eren said something that veered towards the physical sides of a relationship. He knew nothing of romance besides what he had seen throughout his life, what media had been crammed down his throat all those years. 

So when Eren kissed him as they stood there on his porch, when Eren pulled him close and whispered that he  _ really _ didn't want to leave Jean that night, that he wanted to  _ stay _ , Jean was pretty sure he looked like a fucking  _ moron  _ with a facial expression that must have looked a little something like a deer caught in the headlights. Fuck’s sake. Even though he didn't want to think about it, the facts were that Eren was attractive and had told Jean about the people he had dated in the past. 

Eren actually knew what he was doing. And that was terrifying. What did Jean know about, well, anything? He didn't want to be a disappointment or a waste of time, but there was no escaping the fact that Eren  _ wanted him _ and he’d probably fall short of Eren’s expectations and there was so much he could do  _ wrong.  _

Now, Jean’s mother may not have particularly trusted the Jeägers, but she trusted Eren. That was why she didn't wait up when Eren came by and stole Jean away for the night. Why she went to bed at her usual early time, not bothering to worry about when Eren would get her son back home because she knew at least  _ he _ wouldn't cut him apart. 

That was why Jean swallowed his anxiety, his worries that he’d let him down, and told Eren that he could come in as long as he didn't make much noise. As long as his mother wouldn't wake up because of… whatever. He wasn't going to fuck this up. He knew deep in his heart that Eren wouldn't hold it against him if he said  _ no _ , Eren wouldn't try to force him into anything, but he had the distinct feeling that if he didn't say  _ yes _ now, he might never be brave enough. It was a big deal, right? Trusting someone in that way? Especially for him, what with the fact that he had never been close enough to anyone to even consider it up until now. 

He trusted Eren. Completely and utterly. More than he had ever trusted anyone. He told himself there was nothing to be afraid of as he unlocked the front door, he tried to convince himself that nothing would go wrong as Eren silently followed him back to his bedroom, he took a breath and, for once, stopped worrying about anyone or anything other than what was happening right there, right then. The look in Eren’s eyes was gentle, loving. His touch was softer than Jean had anticipated.

And everything was perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've honestly been sitting on this chapter for like two weeks rip


	8. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things go wrong. That's how the world works.  
> But sometimes things also go right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god this is stupidly long and absurdly delayed so I'm very sorry for that!! I kinda burned out for while so I had little to no motivation to finish this, but I finally sat down and did it! I hope it was worth it, though I'm not gonna hold my breath. 3

Despite how gentle, how _patient_ and understanding and wonderful Eren had been, Jean still woke up sore. That was to be expected, he supposed.  
Come to find out, Eren was a biter. Hurt like hell, goddamn. Was that kid actually a wolf or some shit? That would certainly explain the fucking bruises that Eren, bless him, had made sure to leave in places that were easily covered.  
Eren was still asleep when Jean sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He glanced over to the nightstand and sighed, picking up his phone to check and see what he had missed last night. He yawned as he fumbled to type in his password.  
There were a bunch of texts waiting for him. He rolled his eyes. This was gonna be a pain, dealing with _fifteen_ individual text messages that hardly lasted more than two sentences.  
To make things even better, most of them were sent during the late hours of the night when _things_ were happening. Oh boy. Yeah, he was gonna let Eren explain to his dad why he was gone all night without warning. No fucking way Jean was going to reply to the fifteen messages that were all _where is my fucking son_ reworded fifteen different ways.  
But there was a sixteenth message, one from a number he had never seen in his life. All the message said was, _I know_. He rolled his eyes and sighed. Fucking wrong numbers or prank texts or whatever this shit was.  
He deleted the conversation.

-

And just like that it was finally the week of graduation. How long had it been since Jean first saw Eren? Since he first killed for him? Since Eren told him he loved him? He lost track as the days blurred together into a continuous period of bliss.  
With graduation just a few days away, everyone was preparing to say goodbye to each other and part ways for good. Jean didn't have any worries. Eren assured him that no matter what happened next, they'd be together. “We could always be together, if you want,” he had said in an uncharacteristically embarrassed way.  
Jean wrapped an arm around him and said, “I’d like that.”  
Soon he was going to be free of the fucking occult club. He’d never have to worry about shitty high school students trying to steal away the light of his life. He could finally truly distance himself from the horrible things he had done and settle into a long, happy life with Eren. Regardless of how they had gotten there, they were in love. What else mattered?  
Well, there was _one_ thing bothering him. The _I know_ text hadn't been a one-time thing. He kept getting strange texts from that number, all of them always saying things that put him on edge in a way he had never felt before. Not even when he had to sit in Levi’s classroom, knowing full well what kind of man he was.  
But before he could ever get too caught up in worrying about it, Eren would sweep him off his feet yet again and he’d forget about it until the next text. And he was perfectly okay with that.

-

It was Thursday when he was visited again. Kenny Ackerman told his mother that they had just a few more questions they had forgotten to ask on their previous visit.  
Kenny sat across from Jean once again. “I only have one question, actually,” he said. “I was wonderin’ if maybe, by some chance, you knew Levi was gonna try to give you hell.”  
Jean sighed. “I definitely had a feeling that he would. He never liked me much.”  
“You knew he was going to initiate something, then.”  
“Yes.”  
“And you went anyways, knowing full well that whatever happened might negatively impact his career and his life.”  
“I didn't fully know anything that was going to happen in that room.”  
“Of course you didn't.” Kenny rolled his eyes and stood. “I reckon we've got one more visit ahead of us. I'll see you after graduation, Jean.”  
And then he left.

-

It was 5:30 in the morning when Jean’s phone rang, the ringtone he’d set for Eren interrupting his sleep and waking him up in an instant. He reached over and took the phone from the charger to answer it.  
“Good morning,” Eren said when Jean picked up.  
“Mmm. Why are you up so early?”  
“Mom got me up half an hour ago. She's really into the whole graduation thing. Shit, though, did I wake you up?”  
“Yeah, but I don't mind being woken up if it's by you.”  
“Dude. That's gay.”  
“Really? Damn. I thought I was actually straight this whole time.”  
Eren laughed and Jean’s heart almost burst out of his chest. “Yeah, yeah.” He paused to yawn; poor guy couldn't fully wake up until he had been up for at least an hour. “Anyways. What do you wanna do later? Armin and Marco were thinking about taking a trip down to the lake. Do you wanna go? They invited us.”  
“Yeah, sure,” Jean replied, though he didn't particularly care about either Armin or Marco. “That sounds fun. Should I prepare to go swimming or something?”  
“Probably. Armin’s gonna drive, so if you just wanna throw together a lake bag we can put it in his car until we head out.”  
“I can do that.”  
“I'll let him know, then. Hey, but, I gotta go. Mom’s calling. You know how moms are. I'll see you at school?”  
“Of course. Go get yourself all prettied up. And don't try to give me some sarcastic comeback because we both know that's exactly why your mother got you up so early.”  
“I wish I could deny that.”  
“I know you do.”  
Eren sighed. “Alright. I'll see you later, okay? I love you.”  
Jean smiled and said, “I love you too. See you later.”  
Eren hung up. Jean laid his head back down and stared up at the ceiling, grinning like fucking _moron_ before laughing at himself and getting out of bed.

-

There was nothing quite like knowing that they never had to go back to school again unless they pursued higher education. Fuck that, though. Armin and Marco had plans to go to college, but right now it was the last thing Eren and Jean cared about.  
After the ceremony was finished and they had gotten away from the endless string of congratulations from school staff and their parents, the four of them piled into Armin’s car to head out to their little celebration. As friends. Although, honestly, it wouldn't surprise Jean one bit if Armin and Marco considered Jean to be a friend just because he was Eren’s boyfriend. He sat with Eren in the backseat, crowded by their bags, while Armin and Marco sat comfortably up front. He didn't enjoy it, _but_ , there was swimming promised and swimming meant swimsuits which meant one thing. A wet, shirtless Eren.  
He could live with that, to say the least. He could definitely live with that. 

It was when he found himself wishing that the drive was shorter that he realized that he had changed. This feeling, he thought, was definitely impatience and he had _definitely_ felt it before, but not before he met Eren. It was something else he learned along the way. It was crazy to think that one boy was enough to take his whole world and flip it upside down, but it happened. He remembered what it was like to grow up without getting excited for Christmas, without counting down the days until his next vacation, without desperately wanting a toy he saw on TV. Without ever desperately wanting anything until he saw _him_. 

Not that he ever planned on telling anyone that. He might one day that he'd never wanted anyone more than he wanted Eren, which would technically be true. He didn't have to include the part where he had never wanted anyone else. Someone would figure out that there was something wrong with him if he said that he had never wanted anyone before Eren; fuck’s sake, he was a teenage boy and teenage boys weren't exactly known to be picky.  
Love was really, really weird. And he wouldn't trade it for anything.  
Not after everything he did to get it.  
He soon got roped into a conversation with everyone else in the car, pulling him away from those thoughts about his current emotional state. He didn't notice when his smiles and laughter became genuine.

-

He stretched his legs when he got out of the car; he wasn't sure how long he has been in that car, but it was long enough to make his muscles feel useless until he was able to move them again. He noticed the sun was starting to dip a little lower on the horizon, signaling that soon enough the sun would be setting and shoved out of the sky to make room for the moon. Not exactly the ideal time to run haphazard into a lake, but that didn't stop Eren. He and the other two quickly ducked behind some trees to change into their swimsuits, and then he dragged Armin along with him into the water, Armin shrieking about how cold it was as he was hauled in. Marco followed behind at his own pace. And Jean, well, he rolled his eyes and made sure all of their shit was accounted for.  
There wasn't any cell service out there, of course. It wasn't like the lakes people built towns around. It was one that people _left_ town to get to, out in the middle of God-knows-where. He shoved his phone down into the bag he had been instructed to bring and looked out to the water. Come to find out, he had fallen in love with an oversized five year old. Eren was trying his best to start some kind of splash war, though Armin and Marco seemingly wanted to just have a nice, peaceful swim. Jean took his turn changing and went to join them. If he didn't play with Eren, no one would. And Eren would start pouting. He couldn't have that.  
Eren’s face lit up when Jean sent a splash his way.

-

The sun dropped sooner rather than later. Instead of getting in the car and heading home after they had tried and put their clothes back on, Armin retrieved several flashlights from the trunk. He grinned devilishly and passed them out, announcing that they were going to go exploring. In the dark. Brilliant.  
Eren grabbed Jean’s hand when Armin said they should split up into pairs. Jean smiled and glanced over at him; even in the dark, Eren was flawless. When all of the details had been worked out, the two pairs headed off to explore. There wasn't a dark and scary forest to walk through, though there were a few stretches of trees that Eren wanted to duck into. It wasn't long before Eren was so caught up in looking at everything possible that his hand slipped out of Jean’s, since he apparently needed both hands to fuck around with weird looking plants he probably shouldn't be fucking with.  
Jean stood off to the side while Eren looked at the greenery around the base of a tree. A twig snapped somewhere behind him and he sighed. He wasn't going to fall for this spooky forest bullshit. Where there were trees, there were squirrels. Great.  
That was what he thought until the hand covered his mouth and the other wrapped around him, hauling him backwards away from Eren. The flashlight fell from his hands.  
The next time Eren turned around, Jean was gone.

-

“We aren't leaving until you tell me what I want to know,” Kenny said. “I even came out here without Carven so we could have a nice talk, just you and me. Is that too much to ask?”  
“You tied me to a chair,” Jean pointed out. “That's hardly grounds for a _nice talk_.”  
“I wouldn't have had to tie you up if you hadn't tried to bite me.”  
“I wouldn't have tried to bite you if you hadn't grabbed me in the middle of the night.”  
Kenny sighed and flopped down onto another chair. There was a small shed out here near the lake, close enough that Jean could see the moonlight glinting off the water if he looked outside but far enough away that he didn't figure anyone would hear him if he screamed. There were only two chairs in the shed, nothing else. Kenny sat with his back to the door; even if Jean had managed to get up, Kenny was between him and the only human-sized exit. Only a raccoon could get out of that window.  
Figures. Why wouldn't a creepy shed be there? Why wouldn't Kenny Ackerman come after him in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere? Great.  
Jean was at least free to tap his foot. “This is stupid.”  
“All I want is for you to admit it, Jean.” Kenny’s eyes never moved from Jean’s. “Tell me you killed them, that you almost killed my nephew. Just admit it.”  
“There's nothing to admit.”  
“Cut the shit, Jean. You're _broken_. You're a fucking _mess_.”  
A chill ran down Jean's spine. Kenny said that word. That _word._  
_You're broken._  
_Broken._  
**_Broken_**.  
A scream ripped from Jean’s throat. “What the fuck do _you_ know about it?” he yelled. “You don't know _anything_! You don't know what it's like to grow up not feeling anything in a world where you're supposed to feel something about _everything_! I never felt anything until I met him and then everyone wanted to take him away from me so what other _choice_ did I have? I’ve only ever done what I needed to!”  
Kenny laughed. That bastard fucking _laughed_. “Really? Is that what you've convinced yourself of? That all of this was justified?”  
Tears welled up in Jean’s eyes. It was like the dam broke and his body was flooded with nothing but raw, pure emotion. He had picked up emotions as time had passed with Eren. He thought he had felt everything anyone could feel, at least once. He was wrong.  
All this time, every single thing he'd felt, everything he'd done--  
It all led him to one conclusion.  
He was  
b  
  r  
    o  
      k  
        e  
          n.  
Eren hadn't fixed him,  
He hadn't fixed himself,  
He couldn't be fixed.  
Kenny stood, staring down at him, like someone who was watching as their mortal enemy dangled from the edge of a cliff.  
“I did,” Jean whimpered, “what I had to.”  
Kenny cracked his knuckles. “You and I are gonna have some fun, alright? I'm gonna pay you back for everything you've done. You deserve everything that's coming to you. And then you'll disappear, and anyone else who might have suspected you will think you ran off because of the shame of your crimes.” Kenny grinned in a gut-turning kind of way. “And your precious Eren? I wonder what will happen to him. All this time you've been worried about his sanity, right?” He chuckled. “He's gonna lose it when you're gone. Oh, I can't wait to see it. Too bad you won't be around to see it as well.”  
Jean closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Was this it? All this time, everything he'd seen and done, and Kenny Ackerman was his last rival. A rival he couldn't defeat. He wasn't Mikasa or Reiner or Annie or Armin or Levi. He was in a different league entirely. Kenny hadn't done the things Levi had done, no, but he was stronger. Somehow, he was stronger. He was the one Jean couldn't defeat.  
He was the one that would be the death of him. Sitting there, waiting for Kenny to act, to slit his throat or whatever he had planned, all he could think was apologies to Eren. For everything. For the murders he had committed, for the fear he had caused, for the lies he had told, for making Eren believe that Jean was a normal innocent guy who had found his first love.  
Well, the first love thing was _technically_ true. But Eren didn't know that he was the only one Jean had ever felt love towards.  
The only one who had ever made him feel like a person.  
He had lived a good life, all things considered. He had grown up knowing he was messed up, _broken_ , and he was content with that. And then Eren walked into his life, with that tan skin and messy brown hair and big green eyes. Eren gave his brief existence a meaning.  
Eren.  
Eren.  
_Eren._  
_Please be okay. Don't bother mourning._  
_Go find someone better. Someone sane._  
_Someone who deserves you_.  
Time stretched on and still Kenny did nothing but stare. Jean swallowed hard and said, “Go on, then. Get it over with. This is what you wanted, right?”  
“I figured I'd give you a moment with your thoughts,” Kenny replied. “Someone here has to be the good guy, after all.”  
Instead of feeling the press of cold, sharp metal against his throat, Jean heard a loud _thunk_ and a louder _thud_. He opened his eyes. Kenny was on the ground, a bit of blood seeping out of his mouth like he bit something when he fell. And there, in front of him, was Eren. He held a wooden plank and was panting, anger sharp in his eyes. Jean didn't even want to ask where he found the plank.  
“Eren?”  
“I was looking for you. I heard you scream,” Eren said. “And, babe, you said that thing about me finding someone else out loud. I was walking by the window when you said it.”  
Jean sighed. Eren threw the plank down--on top of Kenny, adding insult to injury--and set about untying Jean. “You do deserve someone better.”  
Eren didn't say anything, just kept working at the knots. When they were all undone, he helped Jean stand on wobbly legs and walk outside. They slowly made their way back to the car. Armin and Marco were already there. “What _happened_?” Armin gasped as they approached.  
“It's a long story,” Jean said. “But I'm okay. We… we’re okay, right?”  
Eren looked confused. “Why wouldn't we be?”  
Jean shook his head. “I dunno. My brain’s all messed up, I guess.”  
The ride home was a long one.

-

It was on the news next week that investigator Kenny Ackerman had been attacked during a walk by the lake, though Eren and Jean knew better. Jean especially.  
Eren hadn't let him go all week, except maybe for when Jean had to use the toilet. They were always touching, Eren reluctant to let Jean out of his sight again.  
“I told you,” he whispered late at night. “That someone was targeting people around me. That someone might come for you.”  
Jean kissed Eren softly. “I'm okay,” he whispered back. “You saved me. My hero.”  
Eren laughed quietly. They were at Jean’s house and Eren didn't want to risk waking the mother. Then his laughter died. “But what if he comes back?”  
“Something tells me that he won't. I think we’re gonna be okay now.”  
“I'm gonna fight you if you're wrong.”  
“Yeah, I know. That's fair.”  
“I was scared, Jean. I was really scared. You just disappeared and then I heard you screaming and--”  
“Eren. I'm alright. We're alright. We'll be okay, I promise.”  
“Don't ever leave.”  
“I won't.”  
“You swear?”  
“I swear on my life. I'll be dead before I'll leave you.”  
Eren held Jean close. “I love you, Jean.”  
Jean kissed him again, harder this time. More determined and sure. When he pulled away, all he could say was, “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! This is it, I'm done. No more erejean yandere simulator au. I've finished what I set out to do. Thank you to everyone who's kept up with it and dealt with my bullshit while I've been working on it; really, it means so much to me! Thank you. I hope everyone enjoyed! c:


End file.
